Ken/Fran
I wrote this... before Ken and Francescu got involved in game, on the request of the anon who bought Ken more icons. Posting it now 'cuz I just found it again, and it's cute. Random fluff. PG.
On nights like this, Ken missed his motorcycle.
A ride would be just the thing to clear his head; he'd woken up from a nightmare (thankfully not screaming this time) and couldn't get back to sleep. It was the middle of the night and he was still restless, shifting from side and thanking their resident alchemist that his and Omi's new bunk bed didn't creak. The one they'd shared in the flower trailer that summer back home had been miserable... whenever he'd moved the entire thing trembled and groaned, like it was about to collapse and crush Omi, sleeping below him. Ken had often had trouble sleeping back home, too. And he could always pick out the sound of Omi's breathing. He'd done it back in the trailer when he couldn't stop fidgeting at night... focus and listen and match his breathing to his friend's. Some nights he'd wondered if their heartbeats would sync, too, after he'd fallen asleep. He'd read that somewhere, but he wasn't sure if you actually had to be touching the person for that it happen.
...heh. He'd certainly never find out, if that was the case.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling of the cabin, close enough to his bunk that he could probably touch one of the beams with his foot. Probably. He'd never tried. He kicked the covers back and stretched a leg up, aiming for the beam and coming up about ten inches short. This was some sort of metaphor, obviously. Ken slid farther down the mattress and stretched up again, rolling onto his shoulders to cover the distance... and got a splinter in his foot for his troubles.
Could you get tetanus from splinters? Sighing, Ken eased himself back onto the bunk, running his fingers over the sole of his foot, trying to remove the offensive bit of wood. Everyone was asleep, and he was awake. He wanted someone to be awake with him. Carefully, he leaned over the edge of the bunk, squinting through the darkness at his teammate's sleeping form.
"Omi?"
"Hnnn?"
"You awake?"
"Mmmph."
"....Omi?"
There was a rustling from the next bunk, and a sleepy, "Shove it, twinkletoes," drifted to Ken's ears. His mouth twitched into a smile, one that he'd never admit to in daylight. Or at night. Or ever, really, because if Ranma knew he responded to that name, he'd never let it go. ....except maybe if Ken pretended like he didn't mind it anymore, Ranma would just drop the stupid thing. But at least now he knew that the only one awake in the cabin was Ranma. And that wasn't what he'd meant by wanting someone to be awake with him. As quietly as he could, Ken slid out of bed to the floor, reaching under the ladder that he never used for his sneakers. Someone had to be awake. George didn't need much sleep, but if she was asleep, he didn't want to wake her. Cher, maybe, she stayed up late... and if he really couldn't get back to sleep, he'd need the coffee, come morning.
The door to the cabin creaked as he made his way out, but the air outside was cool, and he stood there for a moment just breathing before heading for the hospital. Camp seemed different at night. Almost peaceful. It should have been the other way around, Ken thought, but he wasn't going to question it, especially when he was walking through camp alone, in the dark.
...it was a long way to the hospital.
......but he was about to pass Boys' 8.
Ken hesitated, his pace slowing from a walk to a shuffle to a stop. He glanced off to the left, at the cabin door... and turned on his heel, heading instead up the steps of Boys' 8. Their door, he knew, didn't creak. He slipped in unnoticed, making his way quietly across the cabin. Everyone was asleep. But as he approached the fourth bunk from the left, having someone awake with him didn't seem all that necessary anymore.
"Hey..." he whispered, leaning over the sleeping form. There was no response. Ken hesitated, then reached out, shaking a blanket-covered shoulder. "....hey..?"
"Nnn.. Ken? Is something the matter?" His target's voice was low and thick with sleep.
"...no. Sorry. I just can't sleep."
There was another rustling, and the form on the bed shifted, making room... an arm rose, holding the edge of the covers up. Ken moved, kicking off his sneakers and sliding under the blanket. The arm dropped again, around his waist, tugging him closer. "Close your eyes."
Ken obeyed, letting his head fall on Francescu's shoulder. He lay still and quiet, and focused on matching their breathing. He felt it the moment the sorceror's arm went limp around him, and he was back to being the only one awake in the cabin. He smiled to himself, pressing closer, focusing now on the steady heartbeat under his hand.
He wondered how long it would take.
On nights like this, Ken missed his motorcycle.
A ride would be just the thing to clear his head; he'd woken up from a nightmare (thankfully not screaming this time) and couldn't get back to sleep. It was the middle of the night and he was still restless, shifting from side and thanking their resident alchemist that his and Omi's new bunk bed didn't creak. The one they'd shared in the flower trailer that summer back home had been miserable... whenever he'd moved the entire thing trembled and groaned, like it was about to collapse and crush Omi, sleeping below him. Ken had often had trouble sleeping back home, too. And he could always pick out the sound of Omi's breathing. He'd done it back in the trailer when he couldn't stop fidgeting at night... focus and listen and match his breathing to his friend's. Some nights he'd wondered if their heartbeats would sync, too, after he'd fallen asleep. He'd read that somewhere, but he wasn't sure if you actually had to be touching the person for that it happen.
...heh. He'd certainly never find out, if that was the case.
He rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling of the cabin, close enough to his bunk that he could probably touch one of the beams with his foot. Probably. He'd never tried. He kicked the covers back and stretched a leg up, aiming for the beam and coming up about ten inches short. This was some sort of metaphor, obviously. Ken slid farther down the mattress and stretched up again, rolling onto his shoulders to cover the distance... and got a splinter in his foot for his troubles.
Could you get tetanus from splinters? Sighing, Ken eased himself back onto the bunk, running his fingers over the sole of his foot, trying to remove the offensive bit of wood. Everyone was asleep, and he was awake. He wanted someone to be awake with him. Carefully, he leaned over the edge of the bunk, squinting through the darkness at his teammate's sleeping form.
"Omi?"
"Hnnn?"
"You awake?"
"Mmmph."
"....Omi?"
There was a rustling from the next bunk, and a sleepy, "Shove it, twinkletoes," drifted to Ken's ears. His mouth twitched into a smile, one that he'd never admit to in daylight. Or at night. Or ever, really, because if Ranma knew he responded to that name, he'd never let it go. ....except maybe if Ken pretended like he didn't mind it anymore, Ranma would just drop the stupid thing. But at least now he knew that the only one awake in the cabin was Ranma. And that wasn't what he'd meant by wanting someone to be awake with him. As quietly as he could, Ken slid out of bed to the floor, reaching under the ladder that he never used for his sneakers. Someone had to be awake. George didn't need much sleep, but if she was asleep, he didn't want to wake her. Cher, maybe, she stayed up late... and if he really couldn't get back to sleep, he'd need the coffee, come morning.
The door to the cabin creaked as he made his way out, but the air outside was cool, and he stood there for a moment just breathing before heading for the hospital. Camp seemed different at night. Almost peaceful. It should have been the other way around, Ken thought, but he wasn't going to question it, especially when he was walking through camp alone, in the dark.
...it was a long way to the hospital.
......but he was about to pass Boys' 8.
Ken hesitated, his pace slowing from a walk to a shuffle to a stop. He glanced off to the left, at the cabin door... and turned on his heel, heading instead up the steps of Boys' 8. Their door, he knew, didn't creak. He slipped in unnoticed, making his way quietly across the cabin. Everyone was asleep. But as he approached the fourth bunk from the left, having someone awake with him didn't seem all that necessary anymore.
"Hey..." he whispered, leaning over the sleeping form. There was no response. Ken hesitated, then reached out, shaking a blanket-covered shoulder. "....hey..?"
"Nnn.. Ken? Is something the matter?" His target's voice was low and thick with sleep.
"...no. Sorry. I just can't sleep."
There was another rustling, and the form on the bed shifted, making room... an arm rose, holding the edge of the covers up. Ken moved, kicking off his sneakers and sliding under the blanket. The arm dropped again, around his waist, tugging him closer. "Close your eyes."
Ken obeyed, letting his head fall on Francescu's shoulder. He lay still and quiet, and focused on matching their breathing. He felt it the moment the sorceror's arm went limp around him, and he was back to being the only one awake in the cabin. He smiled to himself, pressing closer, focusing now on the steady heartbeat under his hand.
He wondered how long it would take.